


The Job's Not Finished Til The Paperwork's Done, or a semi-apologia from General Jeffrey Abernathy

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 03:56:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15064610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: General Jeffrey Abernathy, life-long bachelor, sits down to tell how he came by his rather large and diverse family, including his son, Rainey, AKA Chief, as well as his godson, Craig Garrison.  Maybe the good general isn't telling all, but probably more than he'd have shared before his recent medical scare.  Well, it was that bad report from the doctors that put the whole crazy plan into motion!  That's okay, Garrison and the guys can handle crazy; they have lots of experience.





	The Job's Not Finished Til The Paperwork's Done, or a semi-apologia from General Jeffrey Abernathy

**Author's Note:**

> After end of war, after the first parts of 'Rebirth', but almost nine years before finale of that same story.
> 
> Tried to put the proper references in for all or at least most of the times General Abernathy came riding in to give an able assist to Garrison and his team; I apologize if I missed any. Even I was surprised at just how often he'd come to the rescue. Maybe someday he'll open up about all those OTHER times, the ones he's not talking about now. And just what WAS he doing in Berlin toward the end of the war?

Jeffrey Abernathy, aka General Jeffrey Abernathy, as well as Ja-Ja by a surprising number of young and older members of the Clan, as well as his best friend, General McCoud, aka Mac to his nearest and dearest. Of course, he gets called The Old Man on more than a few occasions, but always with deep affection. For a man many knew only as a tough, organized, disciplined military officer, you would perhaps be surprised at how mellow he can get when discussing his 'family'. Well, he's had experience, you know. With his family, you either learn to get mellow or you go crazy. It's that kind of a bunch.  
Now, at the end of a three day celebration, he's sitting by the fire with a good drink, ready for a chat. Are you ready to learn a little, only a little, about those he claims as his own and how it came to be? Let's listen in for awhile -

Jeffrey 'Ja-Ja' Abernathy:

Now, you need to understand, I've known the O'Donnells for a goodly number of years, ever since Lupan and Felane pulled me out of that mess in Istanbul, kept me from getting my throat slashed, or maybe worse. After all, that lot were slave-traders, and their customers favored eunuchs, two to one, no pun intended. No, I don't want to discuss what I was doing in Istanbul in the first place; sufficeth to say, my government, in their wisdom, thought I, a young wet-behind-the-ears junior embassy clerk, would be able to get a job done better than someone with more experience, someone more noticeable. Well, I got the job done, hadn't been noticeable to the people involved there, but seemed to have caught the attention of someone else, and it all went south rapidly. As I said, if it hadn't been for Lupan and an even younger Felane, there to pick up two breeding pairs of some special type of scent hounds, the embassy would have been out one junior clerk. I traveled back in the rear of a small plane, me and four long-haired skinny dogs with long noses. I was grateful as hell for the opportunity and the company; they, the dogs, looked offended at my presence in their space, though Felane assured me that breed ALWAYS had that expression. Something about the forehead, I think. Anyway, back to the embassy maybe being out a junior clerk. As it was, they were anyway; I submitted my resignation after my uncle caught wind of what had happened, and suddenly there I was in the military, not necessarily safer overall, but slightly less likely to be singing soprano in the local choir.

Never forgot them, of course, Lupan and Felane; well, it's not likely now, is it, considering? Never lost touch, either; spent time at their place, watched as they made it grow, champion horses, champion dogs. Champion kids, too. I was there to greet Michael when he was born. I was in Rome when Caeide came along, but sent congratulations, and stopped by on my next trip close (alright so not so close, but close enough I was able to justify it) to meet the newest addition. It took two years after he was born before I met Patrick, (I still can't say where I was at the time), though I met Meghada only two months after she came along. Ian and Ciena, I was in Virginia, and still there when Coura and Douglas made their appearance. The youngest ones, the surprise triplets? Berlin, though on a strictly unofficial basis, the war not being over yet, and me not being in uniform. Enough said. Visited as often as I could get away; their place became sort of my home-away-from-home, especially as being in the military and never marrying (at least not officially), I didn't really HAVE a home, just a current billet. So you see, I'm hardly a stranger. 

Spent many an hour babysitting the young rascals, too; I attribute my premature gray hair to those experiences. Well, it's understandable. When you add together the falls from horses they weren't supposed to be riding, tumbles from roofs they weren't supposed to be climbing, burns from bonfires they were not supposed to be lighting, sick stomachs from those berries no one ever figured out quite what they were, that time Meghada - no, I refuse to even THINK about that little escapade! All while I was supposed to be tending them, mind you!!! Well, you get the picture. Yes, that's where my gray hair comes from. And I have to say, I loved each and every one of them, right down to their mischievous, conniving, devious, courageous little hearts. Still do.

That's why, when the opportunity presented itself a few times to lend a hand, I was happy to do so, no matter how odd and non-officerial that help needed to be. I mean, just take a look! I lied like a dog to General Bond when his niece started trailing Craig Garrison like a bitch in heat ('It's Skirts Like You What Gives Love A Bad Name'); I claimed young Chief as my natural born, though now adoptive son, as well as Craig as my godchild, turning a whole military base on its ear ('Red Cloak of Justice'); I overrode the orders of a tribunal and thoroughly misled and intimidated two fellow officers in the doing, ('Everyone Needs A Fairy Godfather'), hell, even flumoxed all of London HQ (along with my friend Mac) to help fellow Family and Friends member, Major Kevin Richards ('And The Dream Dies Aborning').

I helped, at least a little, when an old enemy tried to make trouble for the family ('Ribbons of Darkness, Ribbons of Light'). I've managed to arrange a few judicial transfers for a few deserving individuals, trying not to laugh at the suggestions (quite good ones!) as to where said individuals might 'best fit in'. I did have to tell Meghada on at least two occasions, "we don't HAVE an outpost in Hades, my dear, though it's a very good suggestion."

And there were a few other little episodes probably better not mentioned or looked at too carefully. You can imagine if I am willing to mention THESE, just how outrageous THOSE must be that I choose NOT to reveal all!

And, as I've said, I was happy to do all that. I love those kids. And their new families, well, I've become mighty fond of them too, the whole lot of them. That's why, when I got that report from my doctor, the one that said I'd better be thinking about what I needed to take care of, 'just in case', and probably should do it pretty damned fast too, I did just that. I sat down and thought of what I could do now, while I still could, to lend a helping hand. Surprising thing was, I should have thought of all that long ago; after all, most of it just seemed the natural thing to do. You know the old saying, 'the job isn't finished til the paperwork is done'. Well, obviously I'd fallen down on the job!

So I made a trip down to Brandonshire, sat and talked to Craig Garrison for some time, asked him a favor. Well, the boy seems to think he owes me, for some reason, so he nodded, called in the young man they still call Chief, though I knew his name was Rainey. He was agreeable too, though not really sure what help he'd be, so he packed his bags and headed off with me.

I had some traveling to do, some things to take care of, that old property of my father's I needed to have another look at, all kinds of things; mostly, though, I wanted to take the measure of this young man the Clan was so fond of. Not too much of a surprise, of course, when I found they had the right of it. Solid, that's what he was. Quiet, reserved, but no back-down in him. Plays a damned good game of chess too.

We ended up at Haven, and I left him with Caeide and Peter and the rest while I met with my old friend Morgan - Reverend Morgan Dean Miles, that is, though he's left his ministry to a younger man now. Of course, he still holds all the perquisites of his profession; I don't think you usually lose those, though I may be wrong. He's a reasonable man, and although part of my request was a little unusual, he agreed. In fact, he had a mischievious smile on his face that looked a lot like young Andrew, or maybe Goniff, or little Randy. Heaven knows we have our share of those smiles making their way through the family ranks, bless each and every one of them!

So, I made a few calls, used up a lot of radio air minutes talking to those at The Cottages and elsewhere, and soon the planes started arriving, bringing along those who felt they needed, or wanted to be here, and that turned out to be a heck of a lot of people. Got that special packet from Shjean as well; amazingly talented and competent man, that Shjean! Made a call to my lawyer, too, made a few changes to my will. Well, that's a normal thing to do when your family expands, I've been told.

So, Craig found himself undergoing a ceremony which, since it was in Welsh, he didn't understand a word of, thankfully. Those born Clan did, of course, the others not so much. He accepted that, somehow, he was now officially my godson; bless him, he is a smart man and didn't even question the papers he got certifying that fact, even though they were apparently dated and signed four weeks after he was born. Like I said, a smart man. Though he did give Meghada one of those looks he gives her and his guys a lot; she says it's his 'do I REALLY want to know what just happened here?' look. He seems to have become resigned that the answer is usually 'No, not really'.

Then, there was a brief announcement, along with paperwork being handed to young Chief, that pronounced young Rainey had officially changed his name to 'Rainey Charles Douglas', followed immediately after by yet ANOTHER announcement, the recognition of his formal adoption which changed his name once again, this time to 'Rainey Charles Douglas Abernathy'. (The 'Rainey' and the 'Douglas' were obvious, though I did have to ask Garrison about the 'Charles' part). Yes, the appropriate paperwork, properly dated back a goodly amount of time, well before I'd claimed him as my son, stamped, witnessed, all of that, accompanied each ceremony.

I noticed that the Clan members present had trouble hiding their smiles at all that formal, solemn Welsh flowing so beautifully from Morgan's mouth; the occasional English 'translation', well, at least it calmed a few nerves, no matter how accurate it might have been. I speak enough myself to recognize that, when taken together, he had basically recited that part from the Bible, you know, the part about 'love is . . .' along with the entirety of the Desiderata, a piece by Max Ehrman that he has become quite fond of. I'm sure there was more in there, but all in all, it got the job done. After all, the paperwork is there, all right and tight, i's dotted, t's crossed, dated right and everything. That's what people look for really, isn't it?

The last part, well, that was something they'd debated about whether to do up at Haven or back in Brandonshire. Ended up doing the more complex part here, leaving the simpler version for back there if they felt the need. So, as I stood there, a glowing Lizzie on my arm, I looked with a great deal of contentment at the three men standing there, Rainey, Casino (who I'd learned from Garrison was really Charles), and Douglas. Listened and watched as Morgan asked,

"Do you, Lizzie, take Rainey (pause) Charles (pause) Douglas for your husband, acknowledging there is love shared?" To see her soft smile, her gentle "oh, yes, I gladly take Rainey (pause) Charles (pause) Douglas . . ." And the same for them, when Morgan asked "do you Rainey (pause) Charles (pause) (Douglas) take Lizzie for your wife, acknowledging there is love shared?" Nicely worded, I thought, beautifully expressed, just ambiguous enough. Three firm answers came back.

Morgan, bless him, left out some of what is usually included, none of that 'foresaking all others' bit, for example, not wanting them to be thinking about making vows they had no intention of keeping and which had no relevance to their life as Clan. The paperwork, well, there are three sets; only the set with Rainey's name, his new full name, being on file for now. The others will be held by the Clan should time warrant them being needed, hopefully never, but the Clan believes in being prepared. Anyway, those four young people, they know what's what, and while that may change between them as the years go by, that's all for them to decide anyway; that is something none of us can know now, and with the Clan, relationships can just keep on evolving. (Get Meghada to talking about her Great-Great-Grandmother sometime, or was there another Great in here? Her, or her Aunt a few generations back, and probably dozens more - evolving relationships, that says a lot.) Still, this provides some protection should they ever need it, and it eased my mind to put that into play. Back in Brandonshire, if they decide to do so, and they tell me they haven't decided that yet, they may have their own Reverend Standish do a simpler Rainey/Lizzie wedding. Still, with his new name, even that carries some weight, in their own minds and hearts. 

I'd asked Meghada, Craig and Goniff if they wanted to do something similar, since everyone was here and Morgan was all wound up and all, but they declined. Their's is a different situation, not just a mating but a true Bonding, and while I don't begin to understand all that, no matter how much I've been around the Clan, I understand there are differences, nuances I couldn't begin to grasp. They're content, more than content. However, I was relieved they seemed to take the offer in the spirit I intended it. I may not understand what they have, but I respect it, envy it in my more morose moments, even, til Mac teases me out of it. Well, ours might not be a Clan Bonding, but it's well enough for both of us. 

The celebration went on for three days, more food than I've seen in a very long time; I ate things my doctors had pulled me away from months ago, and felt none the worse for the experience. I danced as if each dance was to be my last, joined in the singing, laughed and wondered at some of the stories told - for if it is a Clan gathering, there will BE dancing, and singing, and story-telling - drank toast after toast, and slept better I could remember. Mac said I didn't even snore! I was well satisfied with my efforts, cried a few tears along the way. But none quite so much as when they came to me, my little mischiefs, all grown up now, to tell me, tears in their OWN eyes, that they'd just heard back about the results from my latest tests, the ones the doctors had not had back in time to give me before I'd left on this journey - that the cancer was gone, at least in remission for now, since the tests no longer showed any signs of it. The celebration offerings at the end, they included thanks to the Sweet Mother for that fact, that I'll probably be around to look out for them, maybe get to babysit a few more young rascals. I'm looking forward to that.

So perhaps I didn't have to hurry and put all of this into action. But you know, as I look around this table, at my (new) godson, my (new) son and daughter-in-law, my (new) whatever-the-heck this all makes Casino and Douglas, my family, I have no regrets, none at all. It's all good.


End file.
